Chapter 1

Another quiet day at the banks of the River
Styx, he thought. The warden of the afterlife idly leaned against the
withered remains of a long dead tree, staring towards the crimson sky. He was
watching and waiting. What for? The next soul, of course. He was the only one
who could open the gate to the next life, after all. To escort the departed to
their afterlives and harvest the souls of the dying; this was his one driving
task, his duty, his fate. He went by many names and guises, the Grim Reaper,
the Angel of Death, Charon, Thanatos, all mere masks invented by the mortals
who feared his visage. He had forgotten his given name long ago, as he was the
first mortal ever to find this passage to the various heavens and hells that
awaited on the opposite bank. He gave himself permission to use all of the
names given to him by the countless passing souls. The most common name he was
given, the one he thought fit him best, was Death.

“Death”, he felt,
was an ironic name at best. He was neither dead, nor alive at all. A vagabond,
forever caught on the precipice of two planes, belonging to both and neither at
once. As the first to die, he could not experience for himself what awaited
those who came here, not until the last living creature, on the last of the
boundless worlds, crosses the Styx. Until that day, Death would bear his
infinite duty with the all stoic solitude he had become enslaved to for all
these immeasurable years.

In his time watching
all manner of mortals fall onto his riverbank, he was most fascinated by the
races of Man: those strange little primates with such desire as to rival the
gods. They certainly were the most defiant of the creations of the gods,
constantly pushing their knowledge and abilities beyond their limits. Oh, how
it amused him to watch them attempt to master their universe.

In crossing the
river, he would relive the decedent’s lives with them, allowing the soul one
last look at their former life. So often their brief triumphs and ephemeral
victories would be replaced with even more ambition, and it charmed Death to no
end to see their myriad deaths, to experience their tales and knowledge as they
passed to their afterlives. He had seen mighty warriors, killed by the end of a
blade. He had seen simple street-folk, struck down quietly by time. He had seen
touted heroes and despised villains, lords and peasants, simple farmers and
quiet hunters, all with different stories and ends. Indeed, the race of Man was
an intriguing one, to say the least.

Then, there was
that one human, that woman who dared to violate the laws of mortality. To
acquire a status of godhood was a taboo forbidden to all but the most worthy of
the most worthy. Though no god himself, often wondered if perhaps he was one in all but title. But even the
gods cannot escape the inevitable, and their tales were almost as interesting
as Man’s. Even so, in all of his time as the warden of Styx, only that one
sorceress had succeeded in resisting him.

And she was
standing right by him. Again. That defiant little-

“You seem angry
today, Death,” he could hear her dulcet voice from his right, “Don’t you know
stress is bad for your health?”

Death ignored
her. He had given up on that one long ago. She called herself Famira in her
mortal days, though he hardly cared what she went by now. The woman was a
dark-haired, green-eyed, fair-skinned sorceress, appearing to be a young adult.
Uncommonly attractive, by the standards of Man. Death was not the best at
determining human age by their flesh. He knew far better by their mannerisms.
Not that Famira interested him at all. In fact, she was beginning to irritate
him. Again.

He barely spared
the raven-haired sorceress a glance. “I have held grudges spanning many
millennia before. You have seen nothing, mortal.”
He spat the last word with a venomous loathing.

Oh, how he envied
her. Though now transcendent, she had retained the form and memories of her
mortal time. Death, meanwhile had long forgotten who or what he was. Lately, he
had adopted the form of an ancient, skeletal human male wearing nothing but a
midnight-black cloak and wielding an obsidian scythe. He had used this form a lot
when harvesting the souls of Man. He had hoped that this form, one that struck
instant fear into Man, would convince Famira that the opposite bank of the Styx
was where she belonged. She never listened, of course.

Turning away in
dismay, he stared across the Styx again, following the black waters with his
gaze. He flicked a pebble into the dark waters, watching as countless hands
emerged and scrabbled and swiped at the stone. Staring out at the ensuing
tangle of limbs, he contemplated why Famira had come here. Where had he gone
wrong? Why had she and she alone defied the fate of all life? Death could think
of only one answer, and he did not like the idea.

Maybe, she was
like him.

Write a Review
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Subzero Dragon

maewilde25:
I am so in love with this story!!! captivated me till the very end, there wasn't a dull moment. Didn't particularly enjoy the lay out and some bits of info was missing along with how a 21 year old man amassed so much wealth that needed to be explained other than that and a few spelling errors, th...

diship2306:
This is the most amazing book I've read yet. Each and every detail is shown so precisely, I'm in love with it... The author deserves a thumbs-up tho! It is really very beautifully written❤... In Love With It❤🌍

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I just chose to read this out of nowhere and now I can't stop. Hats off to the author who made the reader swoon away with words so beautifully! I loved how I was able to imagine everything so explicitly because the writing was simple and easily comprehensive with a touch of complexity somewhere b...

Erin Crowley:
The concept here is really strong, but the execution is definitely lacking. Tenses, grammar, etc are all off, with at least one or more errors per 'Page' on my phone. The writing style is almost broken- sentences move into each other awkwardly, and are filled with an excess of "filler words", lik...

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I couldn't put it down!! The characters are all incredibly likable, and it's so descriptive you can see, smell, and feel thier surroundings. Great story, and very well written. I cannot wait for follow up stories. there were a few grammatical errors, but nothing that I could move right over.

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